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"We know that he is here, but there's nothing we can do about it in Bolivia. Now you've brought me some really good news: he's out there in a dangerous jungle without proper food or equipment. It would be nice if he never came back. We certainly aren't going to help look for him," the consul told me with a good chuckle.

'I was angry of course.

"And what about the Swiss guy he's got with him?" I demanded, but the consul just shrugged his shoulders.

'I was anxious and confused when I went back to the Israeli embassy. The same Bolivian officer helped me to clarify a few details. First he looked on maps and aerial photographs for the Indian village that we were supposed to visit and then made a few phone calls, but he always got the same answer: there is no Indian village, civilised or otherwise, in that entire region.

'I learned that Karl had the reputation of being a dangerous bastard. A few years ago he talked a young German guy into going into the jungle with him, promising him exciting adventures. The German became sick and weak after a few days and pleaded with Karl to take him back, but Karl refused and just abandoned him. The poor guy managed to make it to a little ranch, where they saved his life.'

A chill ran up my spine. Could it really be true? Karl had seemed like a good guy to me. Marcus had taken to calling him Poppa. Could it be that